


Gensokyo Festival 2021

by Noxshade



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Alice pops off on bad outfits, Bunbunmaru guest articles are a sub-genre now i guess, Gen, Junko's tone poem, Monk and Youkai verbal sparring, Sanae remains an awkward dork, Sister feels with the Aki sisters, Tenshi has hidden Celesital angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:35:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29772798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxshade/pseuds/Noxshade
Summary: All prompts I completed from the Gensokyo Festival 2021 list.  Table of contents in the notes for chapter 1.  As always, comments are appreciated.
Kudos: 10





	1. Day 1: Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: Dawn - Tenshi contemplates life on earth with Shinmyoumaru.  
> Day 2: Personality - Byakuren and Yukari discuss Koishi.  
> Day 3: Rubbish - Sumireko watches over Kourindou.  
> Day 4 & 5: Lazy day at home & Games - Sanae is stranded at the Hakurei Shrine.  
> Day 6: Dress - Alice's thoughts on other's fashion.  
> Day 7: Beach - Junko reflects.  
> Day 8: Music - Keine and Mokou discuss musical acts in Gensokyo.  
> Day 9: Chilly - A stroll in the fall with the Aki sisters.  
> Day 10: Fear - Bunbunmaru submission by Satori on the taste of fear.  
> Day 11: Childhood - Humans want eternal youth. Eirin is not so sure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenshi contemplates life on Earth with Shinmyoumaru.

The Shining Needle Castle wasn’t Tenshi Hinanawi’s idea of a perfect living space. The entire structure was someone’s bad idea of a joke; a massive, majestic, beautiful, (Tenshi had heard it described as ‘celestial’ and she privately might have agreed if she didn’t know better) castle that floated in the skies above Gensokyo, above the common rabble of the humans and youkai, but the entire structure was upside down. Floating around the place was a pain when windows and doors were never where they should have been, the sliding door handles were too high, tatami mat ceilings that looked ridiculous, and all the main halls had vaulted _floors_ just to trip you up if you tried to step out of a room.

Still, it was the only place in Gensokyo Tenshi could stay without offending her own sensibilities by lowering herself to the filthy Earth, so she tried to keep her annoyance internal and not snap at her host. She was never sure when it was safe to return the Celestial Realms after her vacations to the material world. Too often she had returned to a furious Lord Nai, scheduling her for months of discipline and prayer services, saying that since she was technically a Celestial, she should act like it and stop causing trouble on Earth. Every time she had responded that no one had asked her if she wanted to be an Angel, she had just been caught up in some heavenly promotion that made the entire Hinanawi Clan into divine servants, and apparently none of the Powers That Be had noticed how _boring_ Heaven was.

Tenshi sat on the top of an open window frame, staring out at the mountains and clouds before the sun rose. A tiny ceramic rattling beside her told her that her windowsill view had been joined by her host, the Inchling princess, Shinmyoumaru Sukuna. The miniature royal was no more than thirty-three centimeters tall, and was dressed in her traditional tiny robes, sitting in a small ceramic bowl she used to get about. She was staring out on the dark expanse of clouds and mountains with Tenshi, silent, for a few minutes before speaking.

“It seems a bit early for sky-watching with the sky still so dark,” Shinmyoumaru said “Could you not sleep after the feast last night?”

“A Celestial only sleeps if she wishes to while on Earth,” Tenshi replied distantly, both answering and avoiding the question.

“Oh, I see,” the princess responded, in a way that she couldn’t quite keep from sounding sarcastic. They sat a moment more in silence, and a faint golden band of light slowly appeared on the horizon before and below them. 

“Where is Shion?” asked Tenshi at last. She was the other non-Inchling resident of the castle, a poverty goddess that hung around Tenshi due to her curse of ill-fortune being unable to affect Tenshi’s god-like luck.

“She’s still sleeping off her drink from last night,” Shinmyoumaru answered, idly tapping her sewing needle sword hilt on the edge of her bowl. She gestured to the growing sunrise with her needle sword, still in its miniature cloth scabbard. “Must be a poor comparison to sunrises in Heaven, eh?” Tenshi wanted to respond triumphantly, to boast of Heaven’s glorious dawns, but alas, she could not lie to royalty. 

“There...is no dawn in Heaven,” she slowly admitted. Certainly, she held no love for her celestial home, but admitting fault if Heaven was no small feat. “There’s no sun, no moon, no day or night at all. Just...endless light, and the glory of eternal peace.” She looked down at the hilt of the Sword of Scarlet Perception in her hand. She had expected it to feel good, admitting a quiet shame of Heaven like that, but it was still just as awkward and hollow-feeling. 

Shinmyoumaru looked at her with a quizzical look and pointed upwards to the rest of the sky. “But don’t you get an even better view from up there?” she asked in her perfectly childlike way.

“Heaven and the Celestial Realms aren’t actually above the material world, just as the Hell beneath the Earth’s crust was abandoned some time ago,” Tenshi explained. “Locationally speaking, Heaven is...elsewhere. That’s about as much detail as I can give.” Shinmyoumaru nodded, then looked out at the now half-risen sun and said something that cut to Tenshi’s core.

“I’m sorry that the Earth has something beautiful that Heaven can’t have,” she said plainly, as if she hadn’t just cut into every insecurity that Tenshi would never in a thousand years admit that she had. She just put her miniature hand on Tenshi’s leg, and added, “but if that means that I get to be with such charming company as yourself, Tenshi Hinanawi, then I think it’s all worth it in the end, don’t you think?”

Tenshi did not answer. She stared down at the Inchling, making eye contact with her for the first time today, and in those eyes she saw only an honest desire to comfort her distraught friend. That this tiny mortal girl, royalty though she may be, would think that she, Tenshi Hinanawi, Celestial Master of the Earthly Realm, _Mistress of Bhavāgra_ would need emotional comfort should have made her bristle. It should have offended every divine sensibility in her being and incurred her divine wrath...but instead she felt the hollowness left behind in her heart begin to fill, and she smiled down at the tiny princess.

“I agree,” she finally said, and they sat together to watch the dawn over Gensokyo in silence and peace.


	2. Day 2: Personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byakuren and Yukari discuss Koishi.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

It was this maxim that Byakuren Hijiri contemplated as she sat on the roof of her temple. It was a cool spring night, but with a hint of humidity in the air that warned of the coming summer. Mentally reciting her sutras, she enjoyed the occasional sakura-scented breeze, juxtaposed against a stillness that felt like the void against her skin again. To her, it was one more duality to contemplate while she meditated. She finished the Heart Sutra, slowly inhaled, and decided it was time to address her observer.

“You may join me in meditation if you so desire,” she spoke to the seemingly empty rooftop. Beside and behind her, there was an echoing shift, like fabric rubbing, or perhaps tearing and a refined voice responded. 

“That’s quite a trick you have, Head Priestess. I was wondering when to present myself and there you go scuppering my plans by sensing me.” Although they had never met and she did not recognize the voice, Byakuren could sense the energy from the now-revealed being, and could only conclude it was the gap youkai that both Hakurei-san and the oni had warned her about. Byakuren did not turn her head to look at her, she only gestured to the spot on the rooftop beside her, an invitation to sit with her.

The youkai instead drifted into her field of view by herself, revealing that she had not fully exited her gap in space, but was perched, head resting on interlaced hands, elbows resting on the edge of her portal, her lower half still within the pitch-black space from which Byakuren could have sworn she saw eyes staring out, unblinking. “I prefer to hold my own seat, but thank you for the invitation,” she said, then withdrew the rest of her body from her gap, and sat herself down on it, crossing her legs, the otherworldly portal treated more like a bench or odd hammock than a missing piece of the world.

Byakuren’s first thoughts about her appearance was that there was simply too much of it. Her blonde hair was as long as her body and tied with red ribbons at the end so it flowed in distinct, large strands. Her mob cap was tied with a comically large bow, and her trigram-emblazoned tabard was a rich royal purple that put Byakuren’s hair to shame. Her pale pink dress was absurdly voluminous, as if she was some kind of exotic bird, puffing itself up to look more intimidating.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” Byakuren said.

“No, we have not.” An awkward pause.

“Byakuren Hijiri, monk of the Myouren Temple,” Byakuren supplied, gesturing to herself.

“She’s so modest!” mocked the youkai. “Just a simple monk, as if she were not one of the major movers and shakers of Gensokyo!” Byakuren was known for her infinite patience, but it was feeling significantly less bottomless the more she spoke to this youkai.

“If that will be all, I’d rather you move on to why you’ve been spying on me for the entire day.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking I was concealing myself oh so well,” she looked to Byakuren for some kind of response, but upon seeing the same impassive gaze, she rolled her eyes and moved on. “Alright, so I do have business with you, I wanted to learn about the youkai you brought back to the temple today.”

“Koishi-chan?” Byakuren asked.

“Yes, the little former Satori. I’d like to know your assessment of her and her abilities.”

“Why such an interest in her?” Byakuren questioned, confused. “Surely you could just ask her yourself.” 

“She’s far more dangerous than most people think, and I prefer not to meet with such characters without plenty of information first,” the youkai responded, and almost made her explanation sound convincing, but the sliver of doubt in her voice let Byakuren hazard a guess at the real reason.

“A wise decision,” she said, “Or, perhaps, since dear Koishi-chan can only reflect the personalities of those around her, upon trying to pry information out of her, you found your own obstructiveness and contrariety reflected back at you.” The youkai’s face did something complicated, like she was processing half a dozen thoughts simultaneously, before returning to her natural bemusement. 

“Well observed, Head Priestess,” she responded. “True, just talking to her is like pulling blood from an oni’s tooth.” Byakuren raised an eyebrow at the odd mixed metaphor, but the youkai continued without pause. “It is part of my duty to monitor the balance of Gensokyo, and thus I want to know how this little anomaly, this invisible mind reader who doesn’t read minds could affect us all.” 

From Hakurei-san’s warnings, this was surely not the youkai’s  _ only  _ aim, as she was always at least three layers deep into deception and double-dealing. The words ‘duplicitous’ and ‘enigmatic’ had come up frequently when the shrine maiden had described her, along with many other significantly less polite words that Byakuren would never repeat. If she was trying to learn about Koishi from Byakuren, then she probably also had schemes for how to use Koishi as a tool, was assessing Byakuren’s willingness to play Gensokyo politics, and perhaps a dozen other things. Giving her an honest assessment was more than she deserved at this time, but was perhaps best for all parties involved.

“Koishi-chan is many things, but I do not believe her to be dangerous at this time,” Byakuren said. “Her inability to be perceived by adults who do not know of her sister means that she mostly interacts with children, and her lack of personality outside of passively reflecting those who interact with her means that she poses no danger to Human Village or the communities of youkai throughout the land.” Byakuren turned to roll up her sutra scroll, “So if you are planning something, it would be wise to investigate the general temperament of the village first…” she looked up, to find the youkai gone now, with no sign of her presence anywhere nearby. Byakuren sighed a smile, then finished rolling her scroll, then slid off the rooftop and returned to the temple to prepare for lights-out.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.


	3. Day 3: Rubbish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sumireko watches over Kourindou.

Sumireko Usami wondered if her dreams were more or less strange than the average person, given that they were, for some measure of the word, ‘real.’ Her dream-body that she manifested in Gensokyo when she slept in the real world was solid enough to interact with the world, but the odd happenings of Gensokyo sometimes made it seem like a Wonderland to put Lewis Carroll’s to shame.

Her current circumstances, for example, were the textbook definition of surreal. She had stopped by the magical store Kourindou, run by the half-youkai Rinnosuke, with whom she had chatted with a for a moment, before the witch Marisa burst in to the shop with urgent news and called away the shop owner, who as asked Sumireko to watch over the shop while he was out. 

Were everyone’s dreams this strange?

Sumireko occupied herself by checking out what was on display at Kourindou. With a sign like “Kourindou: Magical and Spiritual Artifacts and Relics” she had expected to find a lot more spellbooks, crystal balls and skulls with candles melted over them, but weirdly, instead it was mostly modern appliances.

She approached a shelf on the side of the shop, with a toaster labeled as an item for sale. “Toaster: this artifact from the Outside World has the power to transmute common bread into a more delicious form.” She smiled at the description. Marisa had mentioned once that Rinnosuke had the ability to divine an object’s true name and purpose, but now how it was used, and that led to all sorts of odd assumptions about not only the “artifacts” he collected but the outside world as a whole. Marisa and Reimu had always described him as something of a pompous know-it-all, who couldn’t stand to be caught not knowing something, so he would fill in his gaps in knowledge with conjecture spoken with absolute confidence.

That assessment always felt a bit mean-spirited to Sumireko, and she had been trying to judge him herself, but walking around the shop and reading his descriptions of the junk he had collected was leading her to the same conclusion. She stopped at what had to be a fast-food wrapped in a glass case, with the description “The protective shell of daily sustenance in the Outside World, produced hot and fresh in an instant through sorcery unknown.” Come on now.

Beside the glass case was a plastic tower, the remnant of an air filter or maybe a fan. The parchment on top of it read “Purifier: the Outside World’s replacement for a miko, this device is used to purify miasma and improve the temperament of a living space.” 

_ Well, he’s not exactly wrong,  _ thought Sumireko. As much as she was reminded of those reports of hoarders with all these old magazines and broken appliances, it was charming. What was the old English expression? ‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure’? It seems Rinnosuke had found his trove.

There was a ring of the door bell, and remembering that she had been entrusted with the shop, she made for the front door. When she saw the entree was not a returning Rinnosuke, she bowed her head, and ad-libbed:

“Welcome to Kourindou, Magical and Technological Shop Extraordinaire! How can we help you today?”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today, back pains make sitting up difficult.


	4. Day 4 & 5: Lazy day at home & Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanae is stranded at the Hakurei Shrine.

When Sanae Kochiya visited the Hakurei shrine, it was supposed to be a quick affair. Stop by to say hello to Reimu, drop off a few onigiri as a gift, slip a few coins into the donation box, and be on her way to Kourindou with her “relics” for appraisal. But the gods (or more likely the youkai) had different ideas.

“I wouldn’t go out in that, and I know the lay of the land,” Reimu said flatly from beneath her kotatsu as Sanae stared out the front door of the shrine at a snowstorm that had developed in mere minutes from a light snow when she had arrived. Sanae closed the front door and began to pace back and forth, her plans for the day in ruins, her thoughts racing. How long could this storm last? Could she get her chores done after it finished? Could her cargo survive a trip in a near-whiteout this thick? Could she even find Kourindou? She paced for another minute, opened the front door again, and tried to induce a miracle to halt the storm.

Nothing happened. She stood, one foot out the door, hand thrown up against the blank white sky, all of her slowly growing numb.

“If that’s all, could you close the door please?” Reimu asked. Sanae muttered an apology and stepped back inside, feeling foolish.

“Why can’t I halt the storm, Reimu-san? My command of the weather is terrific, normally I can adjust the weather however I wish,” Sanae asked.

“If it was a normal storm, you probably could, but it’s a winter youkai flurry. They should settle down within a day or so,” Reimu replied, idly peeling an orange from the bowl at the center of the kotatsu.

“Shouldn’t we be stopping them? As shrine maidens of Gensokyo, isn’t our duty to exterminate youkai?” Reimu chewed on her slice of orange a moment before responding.

“It’s good to let them get it out of their systems. We could all use a day off to curl up inside. If they’re still at it tomorrow I’ll run them off,” she said at last.

“B-b-but, I’ve got so much to do,” sputtered Sanae “I need to stop by Kourindou, then the village, then pick up an elixir from Marisa-san, then visit the the sunfl-”

“Kochiya, as your current host I am giving you permission to take the day off!” Reimu half-shouted over Sanae’s panic. Sanae stopped, flushed a deep red and bowed even deeper to Reimu.

“I’m so, so sorry for imposing on you Reimu-san,” Sanae said, her face to the tatami mat of the shrine.

“Don’t worry about it, pull on a hanten, curl up under the kotatsu and tell me what’s in that sack you brought with you.” Sanae pulled on a spare hanten coat hanging on the nearby wall and slipped her knees under the kotatsu before pulling her old messenger bag up to her side and pulling out several long, flat cardboard boxes.

“I was going to check with Morichika-san about if he knew anything about these games from the outside world,” Sanae explained sheepishly. “To see if he had any new ones, and to see if maybe some of these could be reproduced and distributed around Gensokyo, and which ones might need adaptation.” Reimu passed over one box with the title in English and a picture of an old man dressed in an opulent western style and inspected one that involved placing what looked like odd Go pieces in a vertical cage.

“Oh, that one’s very simple, we should try it! It’s like a vertical version of Gomoku,” said Sanae, and she set up the plastic stands for Four-in-a-Row.

And so, the two shrine maidens spend the day with various board games, one relaxing after working far too much, the other engaging and socializing after a period of withdrawal. All the while, the ice faeries and yuki-onna wove their storm, reminding humans that sometimes it is best to take it easy.


	5. Day 6: Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice's thoughts on other's fashion.

**To Impress: Dresses in Gensokyo and Beyond**

By Alice Margatroid  _ (Submitted Reiwa 3, March 6th) _

Fashion in Gensokyo and surrounding realities is a curious matter. A mix of early Meiji-era Japanese street clothes, an early 20th century’s idea of Heian royal wear, and western aristocracy from Athens to Bucuresti. Such mysteries lay in wait for the discerning paranormal fashionista, I can recount and compare for you a few significant dresses I have seen as a student of the tailoring arts.

The dress of the mountain god Yasaka Kanako is uniquely tailored to her immense height. At nearly 220 centimeters, normal clothing ill fits this divine avatar, and her shirt and sleeves are tightened not with a traditional ribbon, but but with miniature Shimenawa, to contain her power (or so says the snake god herself.) Her skirt is the purest black silk, from the Nagano Prefecture (she claims) with an extended hem in the shape of the mountains surrounding her homeland (she claims) patterned with the falling leaves of autumn. Also to note is her mirror, a divine treasure once owned by a mighty Myōjin, now carelessly sewn into her outfit like a magpie’s stolen bauble.

The dress of the sky-bound oarfish youkai Iku Nagae is a marvel. Black cotton wrapped and adorned with more ribbon and frill than is perhaps wise or tasteful, the quality of the fabric is without peer in Gensokyo, with a rich shade of blue-black reminiscent of the dark between stars in the night sky. Of course, the most marvelous thing about this outfit is her massive scarf, over six meters in length. This waste of good silk is a warm, pink off-white with a bright red frilled edge. It is said to be reminiscent of the body of an oarfish, divine messengers from the bottom of the sea, and completely disgusting creatures.

Our next subject lies beneath the Myouren Temple, the honorable Toyosatomimi no Miko. The esteemed administrator of Japan prefers an elegant sleeveless pink and yellow coat with an edge sewn with purple runes listing her achievements as Prince Shoutoku (annoying) and basic purple skirt beneath this with a frilled edge that reminds me of old doilies. The crowning achievement of this outfit is of course, her massive two-color cape with a collar, because what millennial-old revival royalty would be complete without a stupid cape?

Oh, and to that sorry excuse for a wizard who floats around her library all day in her pajamas-

**(at the bottom of this typed page is a hand-written note:)**

_ i have got to stop putting out open calls for guest articles in the Bunbunmaru _

_ maybe run it anyway? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned for this one to be a more introspective look at Miko and how her dress reflected her identity changed from Prince Shoutoku, but upon sitting down to write it found myself woefully out of my depth describing a tale of a trans woman trying to hold a society together against political machinations, so I just defaulted to a funny rant of Alice roasting everyone. Sorry.


	6. Day 7: Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junko reflects.

_Here I stand. On the shore of Tranquility._

_Alone, my purpose out of reach of my grasp again. Tears spill from my eyes for reasons my heart knows but my mind has been forbidden to hold._

_To hold in my hand the only other I have thought of for centuries and lose this chance wounds my soul in ways I can no longer describe._

_I cast all that away, for spite cannot hold reason._

_A human being cannot take revenge on a god, no matter what the stories say, so I had to become something more._

_Hatred can endure, if it sheds its mortality. If it sheds its name and cause and humanity, a grudge can wound a god. The loss of humanity cannot trouble a pure vengeance, for to be troubled is to be impure, and to be impure is to fail in my revenge._

_To go the pure land and wound a god takes more than any mortal could handle. No longer do questions plague my mind, I cast them all aside._

_My purification has left me with only this. My revenge. The memories of the transgression have been discarded. The reasoning weighed me down to the Earth, had to cast it away to reach her, the circle in the sky where my ending waits._

_And now, I am empty again, revenge is beyond even this nameless purity of spite. The 純Pure 狐Fox can wait to scheme another day, if she can survive a vengeance deferred._

_I stand on the shores of the Mare Tranquillitatis, its pure waters lapping my feet, and weep tears without a mortal’s understanding. I weep, but can never know why. I weep for reasons as nameless as I._

_On the shores of the sea where my home is reflected._

_Where grief has shed its last tear, only hatred can survive. And where hatred has failed, only grief can fill the void._

_On the shore of Tranquility._


	7. Day 8: Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keine and Mokou discuss musical acts in Gensokyo

Mokou of Fujiwara was splayed across the floor, spread eagle across the tatami mats of Terakoya classroom. Classes had ended for the day, and Keine Kamishirasawa was grading tests before going home for the night at her desk at the head of the classroom. Mokou had stopped by after her errands in the Human Village, and was just waiting for Keine to finish her work before they could grab dinner, as Keine’s ‘teacher’ affect often didn’t drop until her work was done.

Initially, Mokou had hummed to herself, but Keine had shushed her like she was a student speaking during reading hour. But Mokou, never prone to sitting properly or still, walked in circles, spun on the spot, paced, sat, stood, sat again, laid back, rolled over, stood up only to lay back down in the middle of the room, unable to resist spreading out over the whole empty room. Keine, meanwhile quietly worked through the pile of tests, her only noise the slight, squeaking, scrape of her brush on the papers and the minute wet sounds when she renewed her red ink on the brush. 

“Hey, Keine, I want to ask you something,” she said at last, not moving from her position flat against the floor.

“Ask away,” she responded.

“I stopped by the magic shop run by that guy just outside town, and apparently he has the means to record new things onto plates for phonographs,” Mokou explained. “And even a way to make copies.”

“Interesting. Is he starting a new business venture?”

“He said he was thinking of offering it on the side, like how that bookseller girl also makes and prints books if you ask,” Mokou said.

“I see,” Keine said, finishing her last test and letting the ink dry for a moment. “And what is it you wished to ask?”

“Well, he’s not the most hip or current guy, you know?”

“Not like you,” Keine giggled.

“Exactly,” Mokou answered, unphased by the playful jab. “So he wanted to know if there were any musical acts I could recommend to him for his first recording. What do you think?”

“Well, there are several, inside and outside the village,” Keine offered, as she began to record the test scores in her gradebook.

“Yeah, I kind of wanted to see what you thought might be good, not just for recording but for distribution and sale for the humans.”

“Oh, the human wants to know what the youkai will think other humans will like?”

“It’s not like that,” Mokou dismissed with a wave of her hand. “You’re around the village way more than I am, you know what these people will like way better than I would.”

“A fair point,” Keine finished recording the grades, then began to slide the beads of her abacus around as she calculated grade averages. “Well, I know that the Child of Miare plays the koto very well at public events, even if she prefers that bizarre music from the Outside World in private.”

“Yeah, they always eat up that old-fashioned string stuff. But what about the other instrumentalists?”

“Which ones?” said Keine with a chuckle. “The tsukumogami or the spirits?”

“I mean, each has their merits,” Mokou responded, gesturing with her arms in the air, still flat on her back. “The Tsukumos have that Raijin-looking drummer with the sharp suit, and her percussion kicks ass!” Mokou ignored Keine’s quiet sigh at her language. “But the Prismrivers have songs and melodies that are out of this world! I still hum that one they did at the festival in the summer.”

“Well you’re certainly enthusiastic about the bands we have, but I have a feeling you’ll really be recommending a certain ‘bird and beast’ duo.” Keine put her gradebook away, stowed the tests and grade key, stood from her desk, to walk over to where Mokou lay, her pure-white hair, as long as she was tall, spread all over the floor of the classroom. Mokou smiled up at her.

“I do love Choujuu Gigaku, but I don’t think there’s much point in making records of their songs” Mokou extended her hand to Keine and she helped Mokou to her feet.

“Oh? And why might that be?”

“Well with how loud their concerts are, I don’t think there’s a human or youkai in all Gensokyo who hasn't heard their songs!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, Rinnosuke seems to be coming up in these a lot this year, huh?


	8. Day 9: Chilly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stroll in the fall with the Aki sisters.

Autumn was, for youkai as it was for humans, a time of preparation. Many hurried and scurried to make sure they were stocked up for the upcoming winter. On the Youkai Mountain, the tengu were reinforcing the support for their cities held in tree branches and double-checking their stores of alcohol, both sake and two new acquisitions from the Outside World: beer and wine. The Kappa were inspecting their pipeworks up and down the many waterfalls of the Genbu Ravine, to make sure that any icing would not burst rivets or crack seams. 

The lonely mountain hag had finished her hunt of small game for the seasons, and was treating the meat to last for many months, while teaching the small child she had taken in basic mountain survival, as all yamanba should. At the top of the mountains, the Moriya Shrine priestess gave her last sermon at the shrine for the season, for she would travel to the village in the winter. Nearby, the reclusive hermit trained, and entertained her animal companions.

At the base of the mountain, the living curse doll god prepared for a long winter, already having prevented a blight on the crops of the human village, she was getting ready to absorb the ill luck of travelers caught in winter storms. And deep, deep in the crimson and ocher forest, the two sister gods blessed.

The Aki sisters were not greater deities, few humans ventured into the forest in the fall to pray, and the faith of the youkai on the mountain was monopolized by Kanako Yasaka. But they were simple fall gods, and thus they could survive and fulfill their domains with ease as long as their deeds were recognized. Shizuha, the elder sister, Goddess of Dead Leaves, spun in a ballet-like dance, dyeing the autumn leaves their brilliant hues of red and gold and orange, the leaves falling in a lazy, slow imitation of her dance. Minoriko, the younger sister, Goddess of Full Harvests, trod the earth and leafy carpet of the forest barefoot, following her sister’s dance, wild sweet potatoes taking root where she walked, to be discovered by humans and youkai later.

They trod without destination, admiring what they could of the living world. The harvest festival of the Human Village was but a week away, and then the frigid bite of winter would set in and they would have to retreat, leaving Gensokyo for more the callous and capricious gods of winter. They walked with silence between them, the only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the wind and occasional birdsong.

For the humans who knew of them and arranged worship at the festival, they were an equal pair. Minoriko and Shizuha, sustenance and beauty, life and death, warm meals and chilled winds. But the humans could not see into the gods, could not see the truth of that idea. Each loved the other as only siblings can, a love tinged by resentment and envy. Shizuha, jealous of her sister’s practicality, of her power to bring life and provide for humans. Minoriko, envying her sister’s carefree manner and beautiful grace. It was as bittersweet a love as the fall is a bittersweet season.

They stopped at the edge of the forest, at a hill that overlooked the Human Village. A breeze passed between them and they looked at each other. Each gazed into the other’s eyes, and for a moment the world stood still, each of them reflecting on their private fears. Then they each smiled at their sister together. No words needed to pass between them, for in their hearts they each knew of the other’s desires and anxieties, of their envies for brilliant falling leaves and bountiful crops. They gave each other the slight smile of forgiveness for the tiny crimes of the heart that go unsaid and jealous longings that balance otherwise blissful love.

The moment passed and wordless, they turned back into the forest; to enjoy the last week before the chill of the red breeze became the cold of the white wind.


	9. Day 10: Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunbunmaru submission by Satori on the taste of fear.

**The Tastes of Mortal Fear**

By Satori Komeiji  _ (Submitted Reiwa 3, March 10th) _

The youkai of the surface of Gensokyo feed on mortal fear. It is how they sustain their existence, since fear is a form of belief. But what does mortal fear taste like? With my powers I was able to deduce what each interviewee I could find thought on the subject.

  * To the local werewolf, Kagerou Imaizumi, fear tastes like a raw steak of something between elk and hare.
  * Once Mystia Loralei stopped trying to hawk her grilled lamprey to me, she said that fear tastes like sake-soaked stuffed mushrooms.
  * The yamanba Nemuno Sakata says that mortal fear is like a creamy and heavy salted butter. She says she uses it as a topping on the actual meat she eats.
  * To Sekibanki, the dullahan of the willows, says that mortal fear is a taste so otherworldly, it can not be conveyed with mere words. (It actually tastes like pickled cabbage and sausage.)
  * Kogasa Tatara, annoyingly cheerful karakasa, says that fear is a deliciously sour candy that is weirdly filling, like a loaf of bread.
  * Wriggle Nightbug, firefly youkai, says that fear tastes sweet, but was unable to describe the taste any further. (Mental sampling of the taste revealed it to be something close to a strawberry tart, but with an odd grittiness.
  * To Wakasagihime, mermaid of the Misty Lake, fear tastes like fresh cold water through her gills on a hot summer day and sometimes like grilled carp.
  * The darkness youkai Rumia said fear tasted of meat. Upon psychic investigation, I found she has no concepts of taste in her head other than “meat”. ****



**(at the bottom of this typed page are some hand-written notes:)**

_ her style is a bit spartan... _

_ this could be a recurring column _

_ dunno if i can afford her rates tho _


	10. Day 11: Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans want eternal youth. Eirin is not so sure.

“Eternal youth” is what they cried. “Forever young” they had said, but as a medical professional, Eirin Yagakoro knew these demands were a fools’ errand. Humans, who had come to Eientei begging to be cured of their ills, but all of them wanting only immortality. 

“My stomach hurts.” 

“A stabbing pain in my side.” 

“My vision is fading.” 

“Doctor, isn’t there anything you can do to prevent this in the future?”, they would say after she solved their often faked issues faster that they were prepared for. 

“Don’t you have... _ it _ ?” 

None of them knew what the Elixir was, of course. All they heard were rumors, whispers, secrets, that the clinic in the bamboo forest could prevent death with a single draught. What concerned her wasn’t that one of them would find it, as she had destroyed the last batch long ago, it was that humans were so blind, that they thought eternal youth was something that would solve their problems. Did they not see all the forever-children around them and see where that led?

The fairies that they cursed for their slightest poor weather were children in mind and body, incapable of dying, never thinking of the consequences their pranks might hold for mortals. The ravenous darkness youkai who lurked at the edges of town, and who would devour travels as a child would a sugary snack. The vampires who played out their un-life in the mansion by the lake, feeding on human life to sustain their infinite childhood, never grow old or learn real lessons, so long as they could drain their days from more unfortunate victims.

Eirin didn’t blame the humans for looking for a way out, but she laughed at the ultimate child’s thinking of wanting a magic potion to solve all your problems. Rather than actually grow up and accept the world, in denial they had found an eternal youth, of a sort.


End file.
